The White Shield

We did not sleep much that night, my brother and I. We feared even to eat the food supplied to us until we had first caused one of our slaves to partake freely of it. We talked together in a low voice and made our plans.

Morning dawned. We stepped outside our hut, and, lo! all things looked as usual. Women were passing to their ordinary work. Cattle were being milked – those fine blue cattle of which these people were so fond. Young men lounged about, scarcely armed, laughing with the girls, and old men sat taking snuff and chattering. As we stood before our door, their attention was drawn to us, though their remarks were uttered too low for us to catch.

“Of a truth, some of these Bakoni maidens are good to look upon!” murmured my brother, as a string of girls, calabash on head, stepped by.

“Peace, boy,” I answered sternly. “What have we to do with such, we who bear the ‘word’ of the King?”

Taking a rod, I planted it upright in the earth. We stood watching it; but no message came from the Chief of the Blue Cattle. The shadow thrown out by the rod was now scarcely twice the length of a man’s finger. Then I directed Mgwali to cause our four slaves to gather together their loads, for the time for departure had arrived. Only three, however, appeared. The fourth was not to be found. Clearly he had deserted. This looked badly.

The sun had reached his highest. The rod which I had planted in the earth cast no shadow now.

At a word from me we stepped forth, my brother and I together, the three remaining slaves but a few paces behind. As we passed through the town we noticed some of those strange-looking stone walls we had seen on our first arrival. These were about the height of a man’s head – though, in places, higher – and were built in a round formation, seeming to encircle a second enclosure. We noticed just then that the outer wall was entered by a narrow opening just wide enough to admit the body of a man.

But now all our attention was turned upon ourselves, for we were suddenly encompassed by a crowd of armed Bakoni. These, flourishing their weapons, ordered us, in angry and jeering tones, to return to the hut we had occupied. Oh, those fools, who thought to dictate orders to the second induna of the army of the Great King!

We did not even halt; but, instead of assailing us, a number of them rushed upon our slaves, and speared them under our eyes. Haul they fell, those unfortunate Amaholi, simply cut into strips. What happened then, Nkose, I scarcely knew. I saw red. We both “saw red.” The thunder of our fierce war shout frightened them as though it was the roar of a lion in their midst. I heard and felt the hiss of the King’s Assegai as it rushed through the body of the warrior nearest to me, splitting it nigh in twain. Then, as a buffet from my great shield sent another staggering, he, too, was devoured by the dark-handled spear. Whau, Nkose! I know not how many we slew. Leaping hither and thither, roaring like lions, we hewed our way; yet we were but two, and they were hundreds. They yielded before us, only to close up again immediately. Au! they had never seen Zulus in battle before. But even Zulus, being but two, cannot go on fighting all day against the might of a whole nation, and surrounded on all sides. We might kill a number, but our death was certain at last.

Now, of death we thought not at all, for in battle it is not our custom to think of aught beyond how many enemies we could kill. But to me came the thought that I would like to live, if only to assist in destroying the whole of this den of jackals. And I saw the means of attaining to that purpose.

“The wall, Mgwali!” I cried. “Through them – to the wall! We can hold that. It is our only chance.”

I spoke in Zulu, which they understood not. During the conflict we had been drawing nearer and nearer to the wall. Now, as we turned to face it, we were confronted by a double line of Bakoni. Their shields and spears were ready. We could not hope to break through them.

“Leap, Mgwali, leap!” I growled, feeling the searing burn of a spear blade grazing my shoulder. Covered by our shields, we gathered our legs under us, and leaped. Au! we could leap in those days. Right over the heads of the lines of our foes we flew, and immediately, and before they had time to recover their amaze, we had gained the shelter of the stone walls.

Not too soon, though, for we had only just time to turn and receive them, as a crowd of our enemies flung themselves against the opening. Then the King’s Assegai had meat to eat. Au! in a moment the opening was so filled up with bodies that they alone formed a defence; and, as I have said, the opening was narrow, and would only admit one man at a time.

The Bakoni fell back, yelling shrilly in their rage. We two were covered with blood from head to foot, and our spears were dripping. My brother had a deep spear-cut in his leg, from which the blood was welling in a manner I did not like. Both of us had other wounds, but slight, though a blow from an axe, which had been hurled at me, and which I had just warded off my ear, catching it on the elbow, had come near disabling my right arm. We put our heads above the wall and laughed at our cowardly enemies.

“Ha! dogs – jackals!” I cried. “Have you fought enough? We have not. Come now, and have some more. We are but two, you are a nation. Does the whole nation of the People of the Blue Cattle fear two men? What then will it do before the hosts of the Great King?”

And we took snuff, laughing loudly at this army of cowards, who dared not come within a certain distance of us.

“Wait there, black baboons! You are in a trap, ringed ape!” they cried, jeering at our darker colour. “You are trapped, like the tshukuru5 in the pit. We will spear you at our ease!” And a few assegais came whistling past our heads.

Then they hurled their spears up straight in the air, so they should fall back on our heads. But we only made houses of our shields, and laughed louder than ever, as the spears came down, “zip – zip,” like hailstones on the roof of a hut. We returned them to their owners, too, for we taught them that Zulu warriors, when it came to spear-throwing, had nothing to learn from any other race. This drove them back yet further, and we sat and rested, and sang the war-song of the King.

Our plan was to remain there until dark, then to make a dash through their lines, and this we had little fear of failing to accomplish, wherefore we felt no great concern now. But what puzzled us throughout was that Tauane should have treated the King’s messengers with violence, remembering how impressed he was upon our first visit to his country; and not until afterwards did we learn the true reason, which was this.

During the time he had been in our midst, the slave who had deserted us had learned that, great and formidable as our nation was, still it was a fugitive nation – that behind it was a greater, from whose vengeance we were fleeing. This he had imparted to Tauane, destroying in the minds of that chief and his councillors the terror which our name and appearance had at first inspired. A fleeing nation could not be a very formidable one, they reasoned, looking around upon the wealth and strength of their own settled and numerous people; and, accordingly, they resolved to meet Umzilikazi’s demands with quiet defiance, detaining, meanwhile, the persons of his messengers. Ah! they little knew, those poor fools – they little knew!

Time went by, and, secure behind our stone walls, we felt as though we should like to go to sleep. But we dared not do this – at any rate, not more than one of us at a time. We saw the people gathering, till it seemed that we were beleaguered by the whole Bakoni nation. To those who had first assailed us came other companies of warriors; and behind them women and children, all gazing eagerly at the “two black baboons,” as they called us, in a trap. Then a new move seemed to be taking place among them. A number of people were staggering under huge loads of reeds and dry bushes. We started up eagerly, for now we saw their plan. They intended to burn us out.

A wild yell of delight went up from the whole assembly as these loads of combustibles were borne forward from all sides. We had no means of stopping them. We had hurled back, generally with effect, nearly all the assegais which had been thrown inside the walls; besides, even had we not done so, the bodies of those who approached were so hidden by the loads they bore or pushed before them that they were quite shielded. Amid yells and shrieks of laughter the burdens were placed in a ring, close up against the walls, while more were fetched. It seemed that we were, indeed, as these dogs had said, like trapped rhinoceros.

The walls were of hard stone, and, of course, would not burn. But the mass of that flaming, glowing stuff was so enormous that the heat and smoke would be enough to smother us many times over. We took counsel together, and thought hard.

As I said before, Nkose, the construction of these walls was that of an inclosure within an inclosure, even like the plan of our own kraals. The centre space, ringed round by the outer wall, was large enough to contain perhaps threescore men, not standing very close together; the outer ring was only wide enough to allow one to stand at a time. There was just a single chance of escape.

The outside wall was now surrounded by a high fence of dry stuff – higher than a man’s head; and, amid a roar of delight from the thousands who were watching, we saw blue columns of smoke curling up from the circle all round. At the same time red tongues of flame shot forth, crackling shrilly as they licked among the dry thorns and grass. In a moment the heat became unbearable, engirdled, as we were, within a ring of flame; and the dense, choking volumes of smoke swept in upon us, blinding us completely.

“If we would not see the end of our lives, we must get within the inner wall, son of my father,” I said.

Mgwali uttered not a word. A great cloud of smoke beat down upon us, and, taking advantage of its folds, we climbed over the inner wall. As we did so the smoke-cloud parted, and in the flash of a glance we could see that the place was surrounded by a dense belt of Bakoni warriors, many ranks deep, watching the place in motionless attention, their spears and axes ready for us when we should attempt to break through, as they were sure we must. No; there was no escape that way.

Once within the inner wall, we found we could breathe more freely. The smoke rolled in its thick, choking fumes, but by crouching low to the ground we could still find air; but what air there was we knew was going: our senses were going, our heads grew hot, and our brain was throbbing as though to burst. Then there came for the first time a faint puff of air, followed by another less faint. We could see the sky above. The wind was rising. The smoke-clouds were dispersing. From that peril we were saved.

And now, as we crouched low in our place of refuge, it seemed to us that the voices of the multitude without had taken a different tone. We listened with wide ears. There was a hurrying to and fro of thousands of feet – of eager feet, of frightened feet. Then, raising our heads cautiously above the top of the wall, we peered forth.

The place was still engirdled by a ring of smouldering, glowing ashes, the heat from whose red caverns almost blinded us at first. The smoke had nearly all dispersed, and the whole of the plain stood revealed to our gaze. But the dense belt of armed warriors which we had last seen encompassing us had broken up, and its attention was but little given to us at all.

Every eye was bent upon the distant sky-line, which was bordered by a range of hills. From these the dust was now whirling in clouds, sweeping on rapidly towards us – nearer and nearer – and behind it still, black columns of smoke were mounting to the heavens. Our hearts were ready to burst with wild delight, for well did we know the meaning of this. But our enemies gazed upon it in blank and chill dismay, with hearts turned to water; for its meaning they, too, began to read, as was made clear by the wild hubbub of voices, some panic-stricken, but all eager, all excited. Then, with shrill shrieks, the women and children took flight in every direction.

On whirled the great dust-clouds, spreading over the plain afar on either hand, and through them appeared the tossing heads and horns of thousands and thousands of cattle, the sleek blue-coloured herds of the Bakoni. The ground rumbled like approaching thunder beneath their furious hoofs as they streamed madly forward. And behind them now was visible something else – a vast array of naked figures and of tufted shields, the blue gleam of wavy lines of spears. Regardless now of the danger from those around, we sprang on the wall and danced and shouted, jeering at those who just now were threatening us – the strength of a nation against two men!

“Ho, dogs! jackals! cowards!” we cried. “Flee now to your burrows. Yonder is the army of the Great King – the hand of the Great Great One, stretched forth to avenge his messengers.”

The immense herd of cattle had now divided, and was streaming off in the distance to right and to left, leaving in its place that mighty array of the conquerors of the world sweeping forward upon this doomed people who had been mad enough to defy their wrath.

“Ho, Tauane! young lion!” I shouted, as the chief passed close beneath. “Yonder is the lion whose roar is the loudest. Go, tell him what has been your treatment of his messengers.”

The chief heard, but made no answer as he hurried away, and we could see him and his war-captains disposing their warriors in battle array. And, indeed, they made a brave show, being more numerous than our own, and as well armed. But who can withstand the rush of the Zulu lion?

From our high position we could take in the whole of that battle. Battle, did I say? It can hardly be called a battle. In spite of the dense and well-armed array confronting them, our warriors did not even slacken their pace. Coming on at a swift but steady run, covered with their great shields, their heads bent slightly forward, their eyes glaring like red coals, the air thrilling with their fierce war-whistle or hiss, as it really was, the aspect of the King’s host was so terrific that the Bakoni, for all their numbers, began to hesitate and look wildly around, thinking of flight. But no time was allowed them even for this. Our people were upon them. The crash of shields was as the thunder of the storm-driven billow striking the shore. Whole lines went down, and, pouring over them, the warriors of the Great King delayed not a moment. The Bakoni could not stand a second time. Their battle rank was broken – rolled up as one might roll up a newly-stripped hide. With wild, shrill shrieks of despair they turned and fled headlong.

Then the roar that went up from the ranks of our warriors was as the roar of an army of lions. Fleet-footed, they pressed on the disordered masses of the flying foe, hewing them down like corn, yet still preserving their own order of battle. The panic which had seized upon the Bakoni was complete. They were slaughtered as they fell, slaughtered like stricken sheep, and over them poured the destroying lines of their devourers – slaying ever, slaying and slaying – showing no mercy; for these people had rejected the King’s mercy with scorn and insult. The day of mercy was now past.

Chapter Nine.

The Living Bridge

We waited no longer, Mgwali and I. We leaped from our shelter, waving our shields and shouting the King’s war-cry. We had to dash through the glowing ring of ashes which still smouldered redly around our place of refuge, but if it burnt us we knew it not, for we were not in the mind to feel hurts. But, as we dashed forth, black and terrible, to take our share in the slaughter, we found ourselves in the thick of the flying Bakoni.

In the very midst of them we were, hemmed in so close that, we had but to move our hands, and with each thrust a man fell, as a slain bullock when the point of the assegai is placed behind his shoulder, and in this manner we swiftly cleared a ring around us. At first they saw nothing, looking neither to the one side nor the other, as they fled, their heads stretched out before them. But when they did look up, and beheld Zulu shields right in among them, Zulu spears rising and falling, they shrieked aloud in their terror, fleeing even more wildly than ever. Thus we, being but two, were carried along in this flying rout – killing, killing, till we were well nigh weary. Never a weapon was raised against us; no resistance even did they attempt. So great was the fear which was upon them that they allowed themselves to be slain like cattle, and Mgwali and I slew and slew, and laughed aloud.

We had gained the further edge of the town, and now we thought it time to get out of the crowd and rejoin our people. So we worked our way clear without difficulty and turned our faces toward our approaching countrymen.

Then as we were among the huts once more, another great mass of Bakoni suddenly appeared, fleeing for their lives. We sprang forth to meet them, sounding our shrill war-whistles, but these valiant warriors, seeing Zulu shields thus suddenly in front of them, halted, and, turning, strove to flee back the way they had come. But their rear ranks, panic-stricken, crashed against them, forcing them on; yet the fear of the enemy they had seen in front – for they could not have noticed that we were but two – was so great that they would not advance, and the whole of that armed crowd stood shouting and shrieking, crumpled back in the most deadly confusion, not knowing which way to run. At last, turning off from their original course, they streamed wildly out upon the plain, we two pursuing them and laughing as we had never laughed in our lives.

But they had not far to run, for the further “horn” of our army had swung round here, and blindly they rushed upon the lines of Zulu spears, even as they had intended, but a brief while back, we should rush upon theirs. A half-circle of tufted shields, and of blades now reddened and reeking, hemmed them in. The air quivered with the shrill buzzing war-whistle. Whau! Nkose! before a man could have counted fifty, there was not one of those Bakoni left alive. Then a mighty shout of laughter arose from the slayers.

“Ho, Untúswa!” they cried. “We thought these dogs had devoured thee. And, thou, Mgwali! Ha! we have been paying them for your deaths. Greeting, sons of Ntelani! Greeting!”

Thus clamoured my comrades. But I made no reply. Up went my right hand, my weapons dropped upon the corpses of the slain Bakoni, and I cried aloud the Bayéte; for I saw that I was standing in the presence of the King.

Umzilikazi was on horseback. He had led the first onset in person; but, finding with what a craven and cowardly foe he had to deal, he had dropped back in disgust, ordering his children to stamp out the lot, save such as it was customary to spare.

“Welcome, Untúswa!” he exclaimed. “I thought you dead – that these cowardly dogs had slain him whom I had sent as my voice. Yet here you meet us – you and the boy yonder – driving hundreds of armed men before you like so many cattle!”

“No praise is due to these dogs that we still live, O Great Great One, for they have killed our slaves, and rushed upon us to kill us, but we fought our way to yonder wall, whence we defied their whole nation. Then they heaped fire around to burn us out. Behold, Elephant, it is still smoking!”

The King’s glance rested upon the stone-wall, and a flash of eager interest lit up his eyes.

“Ha! I have an idea!” he cried. “It is good. Go now among your shields, son of Ntelani. They wait to welcome you. We will make an end of these people, who laughed at my offers of mercy.”

Shouts of greeting hailed my return, as I sped along the ranks, for I was well liked by the fighting men, especially the younger ones, and none had expected ever to behold me again. I joined for a moment in counsel with Kalipe, and then we surrounded the town. We fired the huts, and the flame spread from thatch to thatch, till, before long, it gave forth so great a heat that we could hardly endure to remain at our posts.

But, as the flames began to spread, there came rushing out terrified figures, thick and fast – men, women, and children; all such as had not been able to escape to the fortified hill, which Tauane had so proudly pointed out to me. They came out, only to be met by a ring of blades. They were slain, speared through again and again, and flung back into the flames, all save such few of the young girls who seemed fair enough for captives; yet even of these not many were spared, for our people “saw red,” Nkose, as the custom with us is when there is battle and blood-shedding, and at such times every living thing is slaughtered. Besides, we were doubly exasperated against these, who had dared offer violence to the King’s ambassadors, and mercy was a fire of which no spark was kindled in any of our breasts that day.

Leaving the burning town when there remained no more to slay, we formed in columns, and marched to the fortified mountain. But by the time we reached it, the sun was sinking, and the King gave orders that the army should rest. The mountain was surrounded, so that no living thing thereon might escape, and, great fires being kindled, we went into camp. But, first of all, the King ordered a slaughter of cattle to take place. Whau! that was a sight! They were driven up – hundreds of beasts of the fine blue-coloured cattle – and ringed in by the slayers. Hau! then began a scene! Not all fell at once to the assegai: many escaped. Maddened by the blood, the terrified beasts, their horns clashing and eyes glowing, broke through the ring, and their frenzied bellowing mingled with the deafening whistles of those in pursuit as, with heads lowered, and tails aloft, they scattered over the plain in all directions, some bristling with spears which had been hurled into their bodies. But all, or nearly all, were slaughtered at last, and soon the fires were hissing and sputtering with huge red quarters. Then, as we devoured the blue cattle, we who engirdled the hill united around our fires in one grand war-dance, and the chant of the King’s war-song was more terrible than the thunder of heaven, and, indeed, if those upon the hill, awaiting their fate in the morning, did not die of fear, it must have been that they had no room left for any more fear. And away over the plain a dull red glow hung above the ashes of the burnt town, whence would the night wind ever and again sweep up a whirling shower of sparks.

Not much did we sleep, for we passed the night in dancing and feasting. Then in the grey of dawn we stormed the mountain, surrounded as it was on every side. We had to ascend with some care, yet so eager were our young men that several lost their lives through being crowded over the edge of a cliff rather than pause to allow passage to their fellows. They had tasted blood. All were eager to begin killing again.

A long, low wall lay right across our march. Over this they poured before the word could be given to restrain them, and yells of surprise and pain went up from those who did. For on the other side the ground was staked with spear-heads and spikes of iron, and upon these writhed the bodies of the too eager soldiers. So close together were these spikes that if a man succeeded in freeing himself from one, he was immediately impaled upon another. Moreover, in the struggling and confusion each thrust his fellow down, and thus unknowingly impaled him. Numbers died in this way.

The ascent at this point was steep and rough. Above and in front rose a great cliff, which had to be surmounted by a long gully piercing its face and winding round by a gradual ascent beyond our view. We could see the tracks of cattle, fresh and plentiful, leading up this, and if cattle had been driven by it, why then, indeed, it was a broad and open road for the soldiers of the King.

With shouts of rage, which spoke ill for those above when we should reach them, the warriors wrenched up the blades and spikes, and having thus opened a passage, poured onward and upward. We soon gained the entrance to the gully, and now we could hear the sound of voices above and the lowing of cattle. Then, as we turned the corner of this passage, and were expecting to rush on to the summit with a roar of victory, lo! the way was barred by another stone wall.